


listen to the wind blow (watch the sun rise)

by plinys



Category: DC's Legends of Tomorrow (TV)
Genre: F/F, Femslash February, Femslash February 2018, Road Trips
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-01
Updated: 2018-02-01
Packaged: 2019-03-12 04:42:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,993
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13539909
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/plinys/pseuds/plinys
Summary: “Alright then,” Sara says, “Let’s do it, thirty hours, that’s two days.”“With food and bathroom breaks and sleeping,” Ava says, counting each thing off on her fingers, “It’ll be more like three days, maybe even four.”(Or: Sara and Ava, on the run from a Mallus corrupted Time Bureau, take a cross country road trip to Ava's safe house, and maybe learn something about themselves along the way.)





	listen to the wind blow (watch the sun rise)

**Author's Note:**

> as part of my goal to post one femslash fic a day for the month of february, first up is the road trip au that i feel like i've been waiting forever to post

“I have a safe house, but it’s a bit of a drive.” 

“How far?”

“About thirty hours.”

“Fuck me.” 

They’re hiding out at the moment, a cramped alleyway that they escaped to after a  _ shoot  _ out that hadn’t ended well. Not when apparently the whole Time Bureau - minus the few like, Rip, Ava, and probably people like  _ Gary  _ \- had been corrupted by Mallus and were secretly working to destroy time.

Which had been bad enough but then the Waverider had been damaged, taking the team with it when it left, and now - 

Now, she was here, stuck with Ava in the sweet year of  _ 2016 _ . 

A part of her wants to laugh at the irony of it. 

Star City in 2016, the exact year that Rip had stolen her away from, when nobody quite realized how big of an endless threat and annoyance throughout all of time that Damien Darhk was going to be. 

Another part of her wants to go to where she knows Oliver’s base is and warn him now, maybe put a stop to all of  _ this  _ before it even happens. 

An even smaller part of her to find Laurel, to say goodbye properly, like she should have before.

Though none of that was going to be an option with Little Miss  _ Keep The Timeline On Track  _ following her around.

“Why can’t you just use your-” she gestures to Ava’s wrist. 

Ava’s eyes drop to the device at her wrist, cursing as she tugs it off, “The Bureau tracks all of our movements.”

“That’s some Hunger Games shit.”

“That doesn’t even make-” Ava starts then stops, “Forget it. The point is, if I keep this on, let alone use it, they’ll find us sooner rather than later. We need to go dark.” 

She watches as Ava crushes the device under her foot. The metal bits of it scattering across the alleyway. 

There goes that option.

Which meant it was back to  _ Plan A _ , road tripping to wherever Ava’s safe house was and hoping that she manages to stock it with something useful that she could use as a signal to the Legends to come pick them up.

“Alright then,” Sara says, “Let’s do it, thirty hours, that’s two days.” 

“With food and bathroom breaks and sleeping,” Ava says, counting each thing off on her fingers, “It’ll be more like three days, maybe even four.”

“Fuck me,” Sara repeats, once more with feeling. 

Ava doesn’t even grimace at her this time. Just seems to echo the sentiment as she says, “Yeah, sounds about right.”

 

*

 

Step one was breaking into 2016 Ava’s Star City apartment, something which wasn’t going to be an issue since Ava’s current key still worked and her past self should be at the Time Bureau office being the little workaholic that she’s always been.

Sara never would’ve thought that Ava’s love for the Bureau would’ve worked in her favor, especially not now that they know that the Bureau has always been working for Mallus, but hey - Sara will take what she can get.

“So this is where the great Ava Sharpe lives,” Sara says, looking around the room.

She tries to catalogue everything that she sees. 

It’s all so different from what she would have imagined, when Sara pictured Ava’s apartment she pictured something prim and proper, where everything had its place. This was unpacked boxes, a lumpy couch, a tv set that had seen its best days a decade ago, empty pizza boxes stacked up next to a trash can in a kitchen with dishes still soaking in the sink. 

Nothing like what she had imagined.

“Did you just move here?”

“Back in August,” Ava says. 

Which, judging from the calendar on Ava’s wall, it was currently  _ February _ ...

Sara opens her mouth to point that out, only to be stopped when Ava speaks.   

“Don’t,” Ava says, a warning more than anything else, when she catches Sara’s eye. “We’re here to gather supplies, not for you to do whatever you’re doing.”

“What am I doing,” Sara asks, her voice more teasing than afforted.

Ava wrinkles her nose. “I don’t know, but I don’t like it.” 

Which, okay, Sara could relate to that. 

She watches as Ava rummages through her kitchen cabinets, in equal states of disarray pulling out snack foods and shoving them into brown paper grocery bags. Sara occupies herself with twirling one of Ava’s kitchen knives, until the other woman stops what she’s doing to glare at Sara.

“I need a gun,” Sara says.

Though she needs a lot more than that. A gun. Her bo staff. A handful of knives. Her  _ team _ . 

A gun would be a start. 

“Under my bed,” Ava says, with a jerk of her head, “Down the hallway and to the right.” 

Sara dutifully follows her directions. Making her way down the hallway until she reaches the bedroom.

It’s in about the same state as the rest of the house, the bed on a weak looking metal frame in the center of the room, move boxes scattered about, clothing on the floor near an overfull hamper. 

Sara crouches down to reach under the bed, pushing past the books stacked under there for something that could be right. She settles on a slightly beat up shoe box, pulling it out from under the bed, and opening it up. 

It’s right at that moment, where she sees just what Ava is keeping inside, that there’s a sound of quickly moving heels against the floor, and Ava’s voice - “Actually, I-”

“Found them,” Sara says, turning towards the door.

Ava’s got this expression on her face, a hint of dread, her cheeks beginning to color. Surely having come to the conclusion of exactly what Sara would find under her bed. 

“You keep your glock with you  _ sex toys  _ under your bed,” Sara asks, holding a dildo in one hand and the gun in the other.

It’s sort of cute. The flush that immediately finds its way onto Ava’s cheeks, even when she’s scowling. 

“Where else am I supposed to keep it,” Ava asks the words coming all out in a rush.

“I keep mine on top of my dresser.” 

“Your gun or your-,” Ava squeaks slightly over the word, snatching the aforementioned object from her hand. “ _ Your  _ sex toys.” 

“Both.” 

“You would.” 

It’s hard to take Ava seriously when she’s brandishing a dildo like a weapon.

“I think it’s cool,” Sara says, because there’s still that bright flush on Ava’s cheeks. “That you have had sex, I mean, who would have guessed.”

“This is why people don’t like you.”

“Excuse you, people love me,” Sara retorts. “You love me.”

“I tolerate you,” Ava corrects, but there’s a small hint of a smile on her face, and Sara knows better. 

The team had started to grow on Ava like a fungus, slowly chipping away at her cool exterior, something that Sara had noted with glee and done her part to help. And now that they were going to be stuck together for who knows how long… It was only a matter of time.

“I need to change,” Ava says, after a moment. 

“Okay,” Sara replies, making no move to leave. 

She grins like a challenge, and watches Ava’s face, the emotions that flicker there before finally she hisses out an annoyed sigh, and turns around so that she’s not facing Sara. It is only then that she starts to strip. Removing - and  _ folding  _ \- her suit jacket first, before moving to undo the buttons on her shirt. When she’s finish she stands there in a thin white camisole, and Sara watches as the muscles of Ava’s back shift as she moves. Grabbing a green henley off of her bed and tugging it over her head. Her pants come next, she pulls them off quickly, and swaps for a pair of jeans.

Normal clothing.

As if she was a normal person.

When Ava turns back around, her hair is still done up in that Time Bureau bun, but the rest of her looks like anyone else in the world. Gone is the Ava Sharpe that Sara knew so well, and replaced by someone that could make forest green look good. 

It wasn’t like she didn’t know that Ava was hot.

It was just another thing to be confronted with it.

When they had a three day drive ahead of them. 

“You’re staring at me,” Ava says, the words sound self conscious on her lips. 

And Sara instantly wants to take that feeling of doubt away from her. “You look good.” 

Ava makes a face as if she doesn’t entirely agree with Sara’s assessment. 

Suspicion still there, as she replies, “Thank you?”

 

*

 

“Is this yours?”

“Do I look like the sort of person that would own a minivan?”

Sara pauses, casting a glance over at Ava, where she sits on the other side of the van. She doesn’t look entirely out of place. She’s got one hand on the wheel with the other fiddles with the radio with a look of concentration on her face.

Sara is sort of into it. If she’s being honest. This new  _ Ava  _ look. Normal clothing, her hair finally down, a pair of aviator sunglasses on her face, as she drives. It’s a good look. Not the sort of thing she would have ever expected from the other woman. 

It was like being confronted with a completely different person than the Agent Sharpe she had known the past few months of them working together.

The type of person Sara would have never expected.

The type of person that apparently  _ stole  _ minivans from her neighbors without a care in the world or for the timeline.

“You don’t want me to answer that,” Sara says, after a moment, because it’s easier to tease. 

Ava lets out a slightly annoyed noise, and Sara is certain that behind her sunglasses she was rolling her eyes. 

“I mean, not that there’s anything wrong with minivans,” Sara starts to insist, “I mean, they’re about as cool as keeping your sex toys-”

“Do you ever stop talking,” Ava asks, cutting her off. 

“Not usually,” Sara admits.

“Look, we’ve got at least three days together at best,” Ava says, “Just do me a favor and shut up and listen to the music.” 

“You’ll grow to love me,” Sara replies, even as she settles back comfortably into her seat.

Leaning against the window and looking out of it, because Ava was right... It was going to be a long drive, and as much as Sara enjoyed annoying the other woman. She had limited material to work with and a long haul ahead of them. She should save some of that for later.

Ava turns up the music. 

The tune of a song that some part of Sara instinctively knows the lyrics too, but could not name if her life depending on it, filling the car where conversation had filled it moments prior. 

She lets it soothe her. Slipping her eyes shut, as the stretch of highway outside of Star City becomes nothing more than a blur, and listens to the music. 

Listens to the soft sound of another voice, a familiar one, quietly singing along, “ Listen to the wind blow, down comes the night.”

A part of her wants to speak up. 

To tell Ava that she didn’t know that she could sing.

Another part of her doesn’t want to ruin the moment. 

So she stays silent, as listen as Ava continues singing along, “ Damn your love, damn your lies.”

 

*

 

She wakes as the car slows to a stop. Her body reacting instinctively to the change in momentum by jolting back to wakefulness. Aided by the sound of the driver’s door opening and shutting, a softer noise than expected as if Ava had been taking care not to wake her. 

As Sara blinks her eyes open she can see that at some point along the drive the sun had set, the night sky greeting her from outside the window of the stopped car. Along with the blinking lights of a gas station advertising liquor and coffee.  

Her arm is asleep from where she’d been laying on it against the window, a pins and needles sensation making her hand tingle as it slowly comes back to feeling. But she pushes past the feeling to open the door of the car. Shaking out her hand as she moves around the front of the van to the other side where Ava is pumping gas. 

“Good morning,” Sara says, even though it’s clearly not morning. 

It’s earns her a small hint of a smile. Just a flicker on the edge of Ava’s lips. So Sara counts it as worth it. 

“I didn’t want to wake you up,” Ava replies softly, as if Sara was still in danger of being woken up. 

“Do you want me to switch and drive? I’m well rested,” Sara points out. 

“No, it’s fine,” Ava says.

“You don’t trust me driving?”

“I didn’t-” Ava starts, then stops, admitting, “I don’t trust you driving.”

“You know I’ve flown a timeship before, I can drive a minivan.”

“How could I forget when you nearly flew your timeship  _ into me _ ,” Ava reminds her.

Which fairpoint. But also - 

“I did that on purpose,” Sara points out. 

“That doesn’t make me feel more confident in your driving ability,” Ava replies, doing that thing where she squints her eyes and wrinkles her nose in disapproval. 

It’s a cute look. One that Sara has noticed before. 

One that she’s never acted on before.

Something that feels a bit like a mistake now that they were stuck together for the foreseeable future. 

“Where are we,” Sara asks, instead of dwelling on all of  _ that _ . 

“Nevada,” Ava replies.

“Still?”

“It’s only been eight hours.”

_ Only eight _ . 

Which meant about twenty-two of just driving left to go. 

“I need to eat,” Sara says, “And more than just the ten packs of candy you’re buying me when we go inside that gas station.”

“I’m not buying you ten packs of candy,” Ava says, in a dry but slightly amused tone. 

“Uh, excuse you, I need twizzlers, and skittles, and giant chocolate bars, and pez-”

“Pez aren’t for eating,” Ava cuts her off. 

Sara shoots her a scanalized look. “What else do you do with them?”

“They’re for collecting,” she replies, in a tone as though that should be obvious.

The only thing it obviously was was wrong. 

“Life is too short not to eat the candy. We could die at any time - I’ve actually died  _ multiple  _ times,” Sara reminds her, “You’re gonna eat the damn candy, Aves. It’s happening. Embrace it.”

Ava wrinkles her nose. “No, thank you.”

“If you love me you will.”

“I guess it’s a good thing I don’t love you.”

Sara makes on over dramatic and hurt face, holding her hand over her chest in mock heartbreak, voice rising into a falsetto, “Anakin, you’re breaking my heart.” 

This time she can see Ava’s eye roll clearly, “Why are you this way?”

Sara grins back at her, “It’s part of my charm.”

 

*

 

“Don’t bring the candy in,” Ava says, as she pulls into the diner parking lot. 

It’s one of the those places in the middle of nowhere, on the side of the highway with nothing but desert stretching out around them for miles. The sort of place that was supposed to be  _ classic Americana _ , but also the sort of place that Sara would have avoided at all costs under normal situations.

She stuffs two more twizzlers into her mouth as Ava turns the car off. Setting the rest of the bag on the dashboard before making her way out of the car.

It’s cold when they get out.

Not freezing cold, but there’s a bit of wind that makes easy work of the thin tank top she’s wearing under her leather jacket. Sara huddles her arms around herself to trap her warmth inside as she follows Ava into the diner. 

The place is mostly empty, fluorescent lights casting a yellow glow around the place, music that had reached its popularity peak in the early 80s coming out of the speakers, and a tired waitress that waves at them to choose their seat when they walk in.

Ava settles on a booth near the window, and Sara slides into the seat across from her.

“Coffee,” Sara says, when the waitress comes go the table, “With extra sugar and cream, like pile on the sugar.” 

Ava makes a face, “I’ll have a black coffee.”

“You know, studies have shown that people who take their coffee black are more likely to be psychopaths,” Sara says, when the waitress moves away from them.

“How does that account for you,” Ava replies, tilting her head to the side as if she’s honestly trying to figure it out.

Sara kicks at her under the table. It’s only fair. 

“Hey-”

“I bet there’s aliens out here,” Sara cuts Ava off before she can complain, “This seems like one of those places, where aliens come to get you,” she wiggles her fingers, humming a poor rendition of the X Files theme. 

“You’ve seen real aliens before. We’ve both seen aliens before, multiple times,” Ava says, shaking her head, “And anyways, you’re thinking of New Mexico.”

“What’s in New Mexico?”

“Aliens,” Ava replies. 

“Are we going to go through that?”

“Through the  _ aliens? _ ”

“No, New Mexico. Area 51. All that stuff,” Sara says, waving her hand, in a sort of catch all statement. 

“Do you even know how geography works?”

“Nobody in this country knows how geography works, don’t be unrealistic, Aves.” 

Ava laughs.

An open honest sound. 

Spilling forth from her lips. 

Sara honestly isn’t certain that she’s ever heard Ava laugh before. But hearing it now, rather than getting a look of distaste, all Sara can think is how she wants to hear it again and again. How she’ll do anything to have that happen.

The smile that finds its way onto Sara’s face is instinctive and feels so right. Perfect in the moment. A moment that can only exist here. In a diner, in the middle of the desert, on the run and heading to somewhere that nobody knows their names. 

It was a shame, the world had to be nearly ending for them to get here. 

She wants to say that, to say something, to maybe tell Ava how beautiful she looked in normal clothes, acting like a normal person, but she doesn’t say that. She can’t.

Instead, Sara just says, “Okay, but how many sides of hashbrowns can I get before you start to judge me?”

“I’m already judging you.”

 

*

 

“Either we’re getting a hotel or you’re letting me drive.” 

Ava’s hands flex against the wheel.

Sara can tell that she’s tired, that the two cups of coffee she’d hadn’t done anything to help the situation. As much as Sara wanted to get to Ava’s safe house and contact the team from there as soon as possible. 

She’d rather that didn’t come with the risk of Ava driving them off the road. 

“I’m serious,” Sara insists. 

Ava flicks on her turn signal, “Don’t make me regret this.” 

“I’d never,” Sara insists. 

It doesn’t take long to find a motel. 

It’s not a very nice place. 

Though Sara has certainly slept in worse. In caves, and abandoned buildings, and on the streets - so as far as a place to rest her head for the night, this motel wasn’t that bad.

Despite the way Ava seems to anxiously look around the nearly empty parking lot. 

“You want me to come in with you?”

“I’ll be fine,” she insists, getting out of the car and heading in the front office. 

Sara says in the car, watching through the window as Ava talks with the desk attendant. 

For a second she can pretend that they’re some other normal people, just on a road trip, with no rush or need or reason for all of this. 

Nothing that they’re running from. 

No world to save. 

The worst part is… That during the day she hadn’t really thought about her team in all of this. The Legends were off somewhere, dealing with Mallus not knowing where she and Ava had been scattered and abandoned too. It wasn’t the first time Sara had been left behind in time. But there was something different about this time. 

Not just because it was so close to the year she’d come from, but because of who she was with. 

_ Ava _ .

It was different from when she had been left behind with Ray and Kendra. 

Maybe this is what they had felt like, realizing that the person they were stuck with could be something else, something  _ more  _ even. 

Sara pushes that thought out of her mind when Ava steps back out into the night again. Holding up the white card of a motel room key, and Sara climbs out of the van, grabbing the duffle that Ava had packed for them as she goes. And bounding over to where Ava is standing waiting for her.

She leads the way to the room. 

The feeling of  _ it’s not the worst thing ever  _ continues when Ava pushes open the door. And Sara ignores the flicking light and the peeling wallpaper to fall back against the one bed in the center of the room. 

Her mind only belatedly registering what  _ one  _ bed means, when Ava reaches over and grabs one of the pillows off of the bed. 

“I’ll take the floor.”

“That’s a dumb idea,” Sara says, propping herself up from where she’d already sprawled out on the bed, “We can sleep together, it wouldn’t be the first time I’ve shared a bed with a girl.”

She winks at Ava. 

Or tries to.

But it doesn’t have the desired effect because Ava still looks doubtful, holding the pillow she had grabbed a moment before still under her arm. She’s got her brows furrowed like she’s trying to calculate something. Trying to put the pieces of the world in the correct order. 

Eventually, she speaks, with a teasing tone rather than the serious one that Sara was sure occupied her head space, “Can you do that without trying to seduce me?”

“Uh, excuse you, I’m great at sex,” Sara insists, “You should want me to seduce you.” 

“I’ll just take the-”

“The Queen of France could write me a letter of recommendation - or Guinevere, did you know that  _ I’m  _ Sir Lancelot?” 

“I wish I didn’t,” Ava replies. 

“Rude,” Sara says, sticking her tongue out at Ava. 

“Just for that I’m not going to seduce you now,” Sara says. 

“We’re you considering it before?”

They’re both teasing each other. Joking around. So Sara pointedly doesn’t dwell on the feelings she had while sitting in the car next to Ava, listening to her sing along to the radio without a care in the world. 

She doesn’t dwell on what  _ that  _ had made her feel.

Instead she just smirks at Ava and says, “It’s okay Aves, you can admit that I’m hot.”

 

*

 

Sara wakes up to Ava doing sit ups on the floor of their hotel room. 

She can’t help but feel disappointed that they didn’t wake up pressed together on the one bed in the hotel room. After all, Sara knew that she was a cuddler and a bit of a bed hog. Something that multiple partners had complained about in the past. 

The real question was how Ava had managed to extract herself from Sara’s grasp without waking her in up in the morning?

Though she supposes she can’t really mind.

Not when she’s greeted with the sight of Ava in short shorts and a sports bra, with dog tags around her neck, and going through her morning work out, a shine of sweat against her well toned stomach. 

_ Fuck _ , of all the things to wake up to. 

“Good morning,” Sara drawls, aiming for sexy, but coming more off as sleepy. 

Ava stops her work out to look up at Sara, “Finally, all you do is sleep.” 

“It’s called beauty sleep, you should try it.”

 

*

 

Ava drives them through a McDonald’s drive thru for breakfast, ordering a large black coffee for herself because she continues to have no taste, while Sara orders just the right number of hashbrowns and McGriddles along with  an extra large sprite. 

Sara had decided that being on the run meant eating bad.  

Plus there was no oatmeal here, and even if there had been it wouldn’t have compared to Gideon’s fabricated food. Which would have only made her more homesick. 

When Ava hands the bag of breakfast food to Sara, she digs right in. Grabbing one of the sandwiches, and undoing the wrapper one handed, before opening up a pack of ketchup. “Aren’t you going to eat?”

“I had a protein bar before you woke up,” Ava says, “And I don’t like eating while I drive.”

“I could-”

“No,” Ava cuts her off, already knowing what Sara was going to offer.

Which fair.

She didn’t feel much like driving this morning anyways. 

“Don’t spill in the car,” Ava says, after a moment’s pause. 

Sara pauses where she had been carefully pouring four packets of ketchup into her breakfast sandwich, to shoot Ava a mock offended voice, “Uh, wow, so first off this is a stolen car?” 

“My point still stands.”

 

*

 

“Tell me about yourself?”

“What?”

“I’m bored,” Sara replies, because she is. Because as exciting as being  _ on the run  _ had sounded in her head, it wasn’t very exciting in actuality. Especially since nobody knew where they were, so nobody was actively chasing them. 

There was only so many times she could listen to the same songs endlessly on repeat. Even the salt flats of Utah which had seemed beautiful when they’d stopped at that last rest stop had started to grow stale. 

They really had been beautiful, almost as beautiful as Ava had looked lingering out on the edge of the path, unwilling to step out onto the infinite stretch of white salt, the wind whipping through her blonde hair.

She was still beautiful. Sitting here in the driver’s seat. Her sunglasses back on, a thin white tank top on (so thin that Sara can see her black sports bra underneath), a green plaid flannel unbuttoned with the sleeves rolled up, her dog tags on the outside of her shirt for once (where Ava would occasionally fiddle with them, while driving, in an absent minded and likely equally bored manner). She looked good.

So good that Sara was having a bit of a crisis. 

She wasn’t supposed to be sitting here wanting to kiss Ava.

Which is why she needed a distraction.

“Let’s play twenty questions,” Sara says, “I’ll ask you questions about yourself and-”

“Twenty questions is the game where you think of an object, and the other person has twenty questions to figure it out,” Ava tells her, ruining the fun. “Not a chance to get deep and personal.”

“What’s wrong with getting deep and personal?”

Ava glances away from the moment. And though Sara can’t see her exact expression from behind her sunglasses she can imagine it well enough. 

Probably more than mild annoyance.

“What’s your favorite color,” Sara asks, ignoring Ava’s look.

She’s still pleasantly surprised when Ava turns back to the road and says, “Green.”

So Sara tests the water again, “Dogs or cats.”

“Anyone who doesn’t answer cats shouldn’t be trusted.”

Sara laughs a little at that, “Action figures inside boxes forever or out to have fun and play with?”

“Why do I feel like there’s only one  _ acceptable  _ answer for you to this question,” Ava asks. 

“Because there is only one,” Sara insists.

“Unbiased questions only,” Ava says in a tone that is more fond than unamused.

“Fine,” Sara groans, trying again,  “Tea or coffee?”

“Coffee,” Ava replies, “Black. Always.”

“That’s still disgusting,” Sara reminds her, “Oh, favorite pizza topping.”

Ava pauses for a second, considering, before she answers, “Pineapple.”

“That’s somehow even more disgusting than the coffee.”

“Was the point of this game to insult me,” Ava asks, sounding genuinely offended.

“No,” Sara insists.

“Then what was the point?”

“To get to know you,” Sara admits. The words feeling too soft, too true, too much like a feeling she’s not quite ready to quantify yet. So she forces her voice to be casual and teasing instead, “I mean, you’re a real person, aren’t you?”

Ava’s voice, is dry, a familiar tone. One Sara can handle. “Apparently.” 

 

*

 

They stop for the night just over the border into Iowa at a hotel that at least looks a little bit nicer than the one they had stayed at the night before. There’s still only one bed, something Sara’s not sure is just irony or a twist of fate anymore.

“Did you know Ray’s from Iowa?”

“That’s neat,” Ava says. She’s only half listening, changing into her pajamas.

Sara had started talking with the exact purpose of distracting herself from that sight. Though now that she’s mentioned her team, she feels something else, a feeling inside of her. That regret and homesickness again that she had been doing her best to avoid. 

It must show on her face, because when Ava turns around her expression seems to soften for a moment. 

“Hey,” Ava says, her voice a soft question, “You okay?”

“Tell me that we’re going to get back to 2018 and my team and that we’re not just waiting on the world to end,” Sara says, because she needs this reassurance. 

Ava sits down on the side of the bed next to her. 

“I’ve got a jump ship hidden at the safehouse in case of emergencies,” Ava says, “I’ve had it there for years. Once we get there, we’ll be back with our team faster than you can say,  _ Thank you Ava _ .” 

It’s an attempt at comfort. It’s something.

It’s the way Ava had said the word  _ our _ team.

“Thank you, Ava,” Sara says. Her own voice just as soft.

As she leans forward to cross the space between them. It’s just a soft press of her lips against Ava’s. Sara is certain that she hasn’t been reading the signals wrong, that being  _ stuck  _ together on this road trip had at some point turned from stuck to something else.

Something more.

Something  _ wrong _ . 

Because Ava does not move against her lips. And when Sara pulls back there’s a shocked look in her eyes, a look more like horror than pleasure and. 

“Shit, Ava, I thought-”

“I’m sorry,” Ava says quickly, jolting up from the other side of the bed, immediately putting as much space between them as possible. “I - I need to go.”

“Ava,” Sara says quickly standing up as well. 

But that only seems to make the look of horror on Ava’s face worse, so she doesn’t step forward. Doesn’t reach out to apologize, no matter how much she wanted to, no  _ needed  _ to. 

Instead she stands there.

Still and unmoving, as Ava shuts the hotel room door, heading out into the night. 

“Fuck,” Sara hisses out, in the silence of the empty hotel room. Sliding down onto the bed. 

How had she read the signals wrong? 

How had she messed al of this up? 

How could she fix this? 

Sara settles down into the bed, because Ava was gone and there was no way to fix that. Not now. Not right away. In the morning or if Ava came back in the middle of the night, then Sara would fix this. 

But for now… For now she lays there, trying to sleep, wondering how a such a small bed can feel so empty. 

 

*

 

She’s pretty sure Ava slept in the van. 

She never felt her come back in, never heard the door shutting until it was the next morning and Ava was there, already fully dressed holding two coffees and a McDonald’s bag. 

Ava has this look on her face, that says talking about whatever happened last night was off limits, and she waves the bag in Sara’s general direction. 

“I asked for extra ketchup just for you,” she says, in a form of good morning.

“You remembered!”

“How could I forget that monstrosity?”

Sara shrugs, “Touche.”

She climbs up from the bed, wrapping herself tightly in the bed sheets, as she reaches for the bag digging in on her breakfast.

This time Ava is at least eating something, even if it’s only a hashbrown. 

There is a lull of silence while they eat. Both too occupied by their food to find something to talk about. Or neither of them wanting to bring up the elephant in the room. They remain that way through packing up the room, checking out, and getting back into minivan.

“It’s not much farther now,” Ava reassures her, as she starts the van up.

“That’s good.” 

Except it’s not good.

Because she’s sitting in the passenger seat like she always done, except this time there’s tension there. A heavy weight in the air that doesn’t seem to fit right and Sara can’t help but feel it crushing around her.

She wants to ask.

She wants to talk about it.

She wants to apologize.

She wants to understand. 

Instead she pretends to listen as Ava talks about the last leg of their journey, how long it is, the best places to make pit stops. And how the plan for once they get there, to use the timeship she has hidden in an old barn to take them back to their present, to save the day and stop Mallus.

Sara should be focusing on that.

Should be making a plan.

After all, she was  _ Captain Sara Lance _ , a hero… No, a Legend. 

And yet, somehow all she could think about was Ava.

About the way she looked tense in the seat next to Sara, not at ease as she had the last two days. How she seems to be talking, rambling almost, so that no awkward silence fills the space between them. As if talking about something else will mean permanently avoiding the one thing Sara is desperate to talk about.

“Are you even listening,” Ava asks after a moment. 

It’s easy for Sara to admit, “No. Sorry.”

“Right,” Ava draws the word out, disappointment in her tone. 

“Look,” Sara says, taking the opportunity of Ava’s lull in talking to be her chance, “About last night-”

“I’d rather we didn’t-”

“No, I - let me apologize,” Sara insists cutting her off.

When Ava remains silent, Sara takes it as an invitation to continue. 

“Look, I know I fucked up,” Sara says, “It’s my fault. I thought you were into women, you said something before  _ ages  _ ago now, and I just… I made an assumption back then that I never actually asked about. That’s on me. I should have found a way to be sure, before I kissed you. I mean, I know some people are straight, and that’s cool, like I have straight friends, and I didn’t mean for you to-”

“I’m not straight,” Ava says, cutting her off, with the only three words that mattered.

“Oh,” is all Sara can manage, “You’re not…?”

“No,” Ava replies. 

The word hangs heavy in the air around them.

“So it’s just me then that you’re not interested in?”

She doesn’t miss the way Ava seems to get more tense at that. Fingers gripping the wheel, white knuckled. “I didn’t say that.”

“You implied,” Sara points out. Over the tightness in her chest. 

When Ava looks away from the road for a moment, Sara wishes that she was still wearing her sunglasses, so that she wouldn’t have been able to see that look of something almost like sadness in Ava’s eyes, as she says, “It’s complicated.” 

 

*

 

She wants to break the silence.

To end this awkwardness between them.

To ask Ava what part of this is complicated.

Because Sara knows what  the feeling in her chest means.

If she’s being honest with herself, it has been building in there for a while.

She doesn’t say anything. Because she doesn’t know what to say. Because saying things earlier had only made it worse.

Instead she stares out at the endless stretch of corn fields around them and listens to the music, a song she had heard two days before, playing again.

But this time Ava isn’t singing along.

Instead, Sara sings along, to words that she only half knows, “ And if you don't love me now, you will never love me again.”

 

*

 

They leave the highway behind at some point, pulling off down onto streets that turn to dirty. Endless stretches of farm land at a slower pace, until in a brief break between the corn fields, Ava turns down a barely noticeable path with familiarity. 

“Nice corn,” Sara says to break the silence.

Ava laughs. A little half noise.

Not like the laugh Sara had heard in a diner, what feels like a lifetime ago. 

A pale imitation.

She pulls to a stop in front of an old farmhouse. Peeling paint, a front porch that had seen it’s better days years before, overgrown weeds surrounding the place.

“You know, for a Time Bureau safe house, I expected something different,” Sara admits, as she hops out of the van following Ava to the front door. 

“It’s not a Time Bureau safe house,” Ava says, lifting up the welcome mat to pick up a spare key, “It’s my safe house.”

“What do you mean,” Sara asks, watching as Ava fiddles with the door’s lock until it swings open and she steps inside.

Sara follows her. Into a home that looks like it was actually lived in, once upon a time, though now there was dust clinging to nearly every surface. She looks around the place. The worn green couch. The shoes abandoned by the door. The key holder in the shape of a cat. The coffee cup pens sticking out of it on the end table. The pictures knocked over on top of the cabinet.

Instinctively Sara flips one of them up, staring for a second in confusion, at the woman in the pictures.

Smiling, and happy, her blonde hair pulled over one shoulder, her arm thrown over another woman’s shoulders one with auburn hair and unfamiliar features. 

The first woman is Ava, a younger and happier Ava.

“This is where I used to live,” Ava says, her voice closer than Sara had expected, suddenly loud, “Before I joined the Time Bureau.” 

“Who was she?” 

“It doesn’t matter,” Ava says. “She’s left when I joined the Bureau. We had a disagreement before I left… It’s not important.” 

It felt important.

A discussion for another time. 

So much that she still wanted to learn about Ava.

“I left someone behind too,” Sara says, a quiet admittance.

Ava shifts for a second, “Do you think of going back to them?”

What can she say? 

Yes? 

Sometimes? 

Not as often as she used to? 

“Not anymore,” Sara says, because those words feel right, because she looks at Ava and they feel like the only words that can ever matter.

“Why?”

“I found something else to want, someone else,” Sara admits the words. Turning as close as she is to Ava.

Close enough that she could kiss her again. 

It’s a risk, a risk that Sara desperately wants to take.

“I’m going to try this again,” Sara says.

“Try what agai-”

She kisses Ava again. Kisses her before she can finish her sentence. Kisses her before Sara can second guess herself.

Ava does it again, tenses in shock, but then - by some miracle she moves. She reaches out to hold onto Sara, to keep her in place and kisses her back. Sara opens her mouth, easily, giving in, because this is what she’s wanted for far too long. This is what she needed. 

Kissing Ava feels like drowning, but Sara would gladly drown again, if it meant that she could live in this moment forever. 

Ava pulls back too soon.

Stealing Sara’s forever away. 

There’s not a look of horror on her face this time, but something else,  _ concern  _ maybe. 

“I don’t want to be one of your conquests, Sara.”

“You’re not,” Sara insists, “You’re so much more than that.”

“I know how you are and I can’t… I can’t handle heartbreak again.”

“I have feelings for you,” Sara insists, “Real genuine feelings.”

“We were just trapped in a car together for three days,” Ava points out, “It’s easy to make mistakes.”

“This isn’t a mistake,” Sara says, “I’ve wanted to kiss you for a while, but we’ve been busy with Mallus and saving all of time and being on the run that I hadn’t… I should have kissed you months ago. I should have kissed you after Beebo Day.”

Ava smiles at that.

Soft and easy.

The sort of smile that Sara could fall in love with.

“I want to kiss you again,” Ava admits.

So Sara does. She kisses her. Again and again, until she forgets how to do anything other than kiss Ava. Forgets about all of their problems and about people chasing them and focuses on being here in this moment. Being with her. 

They pull back after what still feels too soon. 

Both trying to remember to breathe. 

“Hey, Aves, do you think you’d be okay, if I did more than just kiss you?”

 

*

 

In the morning they’ll go and grab that jump ship that Ava has hidden in her barn. They’ll take it back to where they belong. Save the Legends and the Time Bureau and the whole entire world.

But for now….

For now, she’ll lay here, in a bed with white sheets, and watch Ava sleep beside her, the moonlight casting shadows over her bare skin. 

For just for a little bit longer, Sara will let herself linger in the peace of finally being exactly where she wants to be, in the calm before the storm. 

  
  
  



End file.
